The Right Moment
by horchatita394
Summary: It's really not the most romantic thing  or maybe it is  and he can't be blamed for thinking it was just the euphoria of the moment.


When the thought strikes him, he's still got come cooling on his stomach. It's really not the most romantic thing (or maybe it is) and he can't be blamed for thinking it was just the euphoria of the moment. So he swallows back the words, closes his eyes and tries to focus on nothing but the present, nothing but the feel of gentle finger tips and a mischievous tongue on his skin. Dave looks at him, tilting his head to the side curiously; he knows his expression must be inappropriate to the current situation so he slaps on a smirk and pulls him down for kiss, messy, rough, and thorough. It does the trick for the moment, keeps his mouth busy so the words can't burst out of him. _Marry me marry me marry me_.

When he wakes up to an empty bed it hurts, like waking from a dream where you've fallen off a cliff. They spent the night at his place so it's entirely possible Dave's gone and that makes his stomach drop further until he hears the tinkling of plates in the kitchen. He pulls a pair of sweatpants on and steps out as quietly as he can.

He smirks at the sight of Dave in an undershirt and boxers dancing around the kitchen, "_Mixed up as a milkshake, but make no mistake, they're shooting for the stars_…"

He leans against the doorframe of the bedroom and he smirks, "Morning there, Captain Crash."

"Shit," the bowls in his arms clatter onto the counter, "did I wake you up?"

Sebastian shakes his head and walks towards him, his eyes roaming mischievously over him, "Watcha making?"

"Crepes," he bites his lip and nods over the bowls.

He knows he looks delighted by the way Dave laughs at him, returning to his cooking. He also knows he is one hundred percent in Dave's way, but refuses to leave the kitchen or to stop dropping random kisses along Dave's back as he tries to stir, or running his arms along Dave's while he tries to work the flat crepe maker. He wonders if he's being especially touchy today or if he's only just realizing this now.

Dave nudges him away and pushes him towards a bowl of fruit, "Go cut up stuff to put on them before you make me screw them up."

Sebastian complies without a word; he is after all getting his favorite breakfast made for him. He's got a nice bowl of chopped strawberries going when he feels Dave's arms wrap around his waist, the press of lips against his tattoo before he rests his chin over his shoulder, "See you're not completely useless in the kitchen."

They have their crepes on the couch, the chatter of a morning show playing background to Sebastian's little noises of hazelnut induced pleasure.

He look at over to Dave, as he takes a large bite loaded with strawberries and bananas, grinning with his lips shut tight at something asinine on the TV. When Dave turns he just smiles at him and shovels another bite into his mouth, nearly choking at he laughs at some comment and the thought is scarier then because it's not words he can deny but an image that's more difficult to dispel_. It's Dave shoveling waffles into his mouth and chuckling over a TV show just as he is now, the metal on his finger sometimes clashing in a tinkling sound against his fork. _

Sebastian shakes his head as if he could make the thought fall straight out of his head and grabs his plate and their glasses, avoiding Dave's gaze, "M'gonna do the dishes."

He can nearly feel Dave's raised eyebrows, "Do you have a fever or something? Since when do you volunteer for dishes?"

From the safe distance of the kitchen he can manage a smirk, "Since you need a break between making me breakfast and me thanking you for making me breakfast."

He winked as Dave's fork clattered on his plate.

Two weeks later he's managed to bury the ridiculous thoughts away. He's having lunch with Hummel of all people, or Hummel-Anderson as is annoyingly hyphenated everywhere in the buyer's contract he's having Sebastian look over. He has to hand it to these fashion people, they draw up a mean contract.

Kurt takes the phone call without looking, but a chill runs down Sebastian's spine as the man next to him freezes, the voice emanating from the earpiece high pitched and nervous. He honestly never thought Kurt could be any paler but he looks about to faint when he sets the phone down, "Blaine's in the hospital..."

"What?"

"He was helping the kids build a set and he…he fell …"

"Come on, COME ON HUMMEL, you don't have time for shock; I'll drive you to the hospital."

He sits silently as Kurt paces, up and down the aisle as he did the night before his wedding when Santana had to talk him down from full on hysteria by threatening to shred his suit. Finally a doctor stepped out and Kurt practically pounced on him, "How is he, can I see him? Where is he?"

"Are you family?"

"Yes, I'm his husband."

"Come with me."

Blaine had nothing but a few broken ribs and a mild concussion, Sebastian is glad to report by the time Dave gets there. As he drives back home that night he doesn't think about the comic value of Blaine toppling off a ladder like humpty dumpty, or the lost opportunities to record Kurt's screeching for use in dog whistles. No, he spends the entire night thinking of that moment, so tiny and crucial. _"Yes, I'm his husband."_ No questions asked. He thought of family, what a vague and disorganized concept that was for him. How much he wanted it to be something more concrete.

"Look I don't fucking care ok? That's not the point!"

"Are you kidding me? Are you seriously pulling a damn 'it's not ABOUT the dishes' on me?"

"What the hell do dishes have to do with anything?"

"I don't know!"

"What I don't get is why you didn't think to talk to me about this! I mean do I not compute into your plans, or what the hell is your angle here?"

"I'm NOT DOING IT. Can you tell me why you're losing your fucking mind over this?"

"Because you thought about it, goddamit Sebastian, you sat there and you considered leaving the fucking country and you weren't going to talk to me about? I have to find out while I'm taking out the trash, IN YOUR FUCKING APARTMENT, MIGHT I ADD."

Sebastian can't think of anything to say and it terrifies him. It's not that he didn't know why he did it, in fact, he knew precisely why. He looked into his firm's partnership in Austria with the sole purpose of finding out whether he could go through with it.

He went through the motions, looking at flats, meeting with the senior partners who had done similar exchanges earlier in their careers, sitting on his own during lunch breaks and picturing life without _him_.

When he spoke again he tried his best to train his voice into some semblance of calm, "Yeah, I considered it."

Dave's anger seemed to shatter into a sadness that threatened to make Sebastian cry at the mere sight, "You don't… does that mean you…don't want to be with me anymore?"

"NO! Dave not that's not…"

"Because I'm not… if that's what you want I'll.. I'm not going …do you not love me anymore?"

"DAVID OH MY GOD SHUT UP. Do you really want to know why I did this? Yeah I wanted to think about it. I don't have any fucking interest in spending two years yodeling with the Von Traps, but I wanted to sit here and know that if I felt the desire to yodel I could do it, that I could go, that I could leave. Those papers, those outlines and plans represent my ability to leave you, so let me ask you something David, where did you find them?"

He looked a tiny bit ashamed, "In the trash."

"Yeah. In the trash," grabbing his coat he tries not to make too dramatic an exit, "I'll see you at Rachel's, if you're late she'll take your balls and then maybe it'll be easier to spend a fucking day without you."

"Seb. Sebastian. SEBASTIAN!"

He stops half way down the hall,"WHAT?"

Dave's voice is much softer now, "Why couldn't you go?"

He sighed, "David I think we just established that I'm disgustingly co-dependent now if you don't mind keeping the gloating to a minimum…"

"I mean why exactly. What made you throw them away?"

Sebastian paused for a few moments before shrugging off his coat and walking back towards Dave, "Tuesday I was looking them over, just…thinking about it when I realized we hadn't…spoken or seen each other all day and I was…just so disturbed by the idea that I hunted down my phone and I called you…"

He found himself much closer to him than he'd expected, "And I'd been in a meeting with ESPN…"

He smiled at the fresh memory and sighed in relief when Dave took his hand, "I got so excited I dropped my meetings and I took you out to that dismal place in Brooklyn you love so much and then we came back here, and after everything when you fell asleep I realized I couldn't because there was something disturbing my peace. So I came here and threw them away. And then I went back to you and …"

Dave was the one grinning now, "You slept so well you overslept."

He closed his eyes as he continued, "So I guess I realized that if … if I was ready to drop everything because I just had to…to celebrate you then not only was it pointless to try to be away from you I just…don't want to. I never want to be away from you."

He let himself be wrapped up in Dave's arms, let the tension fall away from his body and feel forgiven, for this and every show of cowardice throughout the years. Dave was always there, strong arms to keep him safe, "You never want to leave?"

From his position against Dave's chest Sebastian managed a muffled, "No."

He felt a kiss to his temple, "I never want you to go."

It's really not the most romantic thing (or maybe it is) and he can't be blamed for thinking it was just the overwhelming relief of the moment, but what the hell, he does it anyway, "Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"Marry me?


End file.
